Dancing
by MollyElfie
Summary: A fic made up of the times Molly and Sherlock dance together. Sort of a diary of all the songs and the scenarios.
1. I Love To Boogie - T Rex

This is the first 'song' in the fic. Its very fluffy, and the rest of the fic will not be in chronological order - I'm going to mix it up a lil' bit.

I don't own the songs, I am in no way making money from mentioning them :)

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**I Love to Boogie - T Rex**

She was 8 months into her pregnancy and she was making lunch.

Molly stood as far as she could to the counter without squashing the rapidly growing life in her belly. Her choice of meal today was a mashed banana and chocolate spread sandwich.  
Her cravings had gotten crazier in the past few weeks.  
Sherlock wondered whether the baby had inherited his love of experimenting.

The radio was merely humming in the background and Molly gently giggled every now and then at the banter between the hosts and co-hosts.

Sherlock laughed too, but at how domesticated he was now. Baby, wife, friends. He had never imagined these to be the things that made him happy most of all. A good murder did do the trick, but only until it was solved. He could carry on being happy, just because Molly and the little boy or girl were simply breathing.

He smiled to himself - he would've normally scorned his own mind for even mentioning the word happy alongside the words 'domesticated', 'wife' and 'baby' - but no - He just carried on, his smile widening until molly turned her attention away from the deliciously disgusting sandwich and onto him, She smiled back, giving him a 'you really are confusing' look, with that, Sherlock Holmes merely flashed his smile her way, to confuse her even more.

Molly went back to her lunch-making, with her sandwich finished, and looking horribly mushy, she felt she might actually need some goodness - the baby couldn't just ASUME it held all the power over what she ate - a fruit salad felt as if it would do the trick.

She gathered orange juice from the fridge and went over to the fruit bowl, by the radio, to gather the oranges and apples - like the primary school home economics classes had taught her so well (she got suddenly excited at the prospect of HER little one going to primary school and coming home with their first fruit salad.) - then her foot started tapping to the very familiar rhythm that was bouncing out of the speakers.  
Without even meaning to, she started shuffling her feet so she moved up and down the length of the counter - forgetting all together about the fruit salad.  
She turned up the volume very high. So sherlock could hear it.

She continued shuffling to the rhythm and started to mouth the words when Sherlock feet-shuffled, just like her, into the kitchen.  
He was by her side, grabbing her hands and mouthing the lyrics along with her:  
"We love to boogie...on a Saturday night..."  
They swung their hips at the same time and tempo, to-ing and fro-ing their arms as they did so.

In the Hooper-Holmes household, dancing had become a necessity. Sherlock had insisted upon it after Molly had gone on maternity leave. While she had still been working at Bart's, she had been fine, no aches, not stressing, she was happy and so was the baby. However, when she didn't have a daily schedule, Molly's back had started to hurt (yes, Sherlock knew it was a natural part of pregnancy, but he just wondered why it was now, because she was supposed to have got those pains weeks before), she had been getting very stressed and was constantly second-guessing her skills as a mother, the baby was also kicking less. He didn't like that. Sherlock liked knowing it was there, just under Molly's skin, ready to hold in a couple of months.

So one night, after returning from Scotland Yard, he switched on his speakers and blared out some sappy tune from some 80's dance film she seemed to be hooked on which got her attention immediately.  
And they danced.  
Afterwards he insisted that this become a daily occurrence. She obliged happily.

Since Molly had been dancing to almost everything that had a beat, she was less stressed, her back hurt less and she slept better - also, she had an inkling that the baby liked it too because it seemed to kick more and more, every time she even wiggled to music.

Sherlock twirled her around as the song finished and swiftly misdirected her focus by planting a kiss on the top of her head while conspicuously reaching his hand out to steal the banana-chocolate spread sandwich and take bite.  
He hadn't assumed it would taste so disgusting, because if he had he would have nearer a bin.

Molly smugly watched him gag and run to the nearest depository so to spit it out and rid his mouth of the awful, sweet, mush.

"My cooking isn't that bad." She joked, coolly taking her sandwich, finishing her fruit salad and sitting down at the table.

"I think I'm going to have to cleanse my mouth now." He said, taking a seat opposite her - watching as she devoured the horrible concoction.

Sherlock, just hoped that the baby appreciated it as much as Molly did.


	2. Johnny B Goode - Chuck Berry

**Johnny B. Goode - Chuck Berry **

Sherlock didn't want to dance. Not in front of people. Not on his wedding day. Not to some sappy, romantic song about love.  
Never.  
However, his fiancée had other ideas.

When Molly came home one Tuesday night - she was in a frantic rush.  
She had decided, while she was working today, to stick the radio on in search of tunes for the wedding dance. Sherlock didn't want to have one. That's why she insisted.  
She had been avidly weighing the heart of an obese diabetes sufferer when the tune played on the radio.  
She almost dropped the heart onto the morgue floor.  
It was Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Molly had a thing for 50's and 60's rock and roll and she wondered how on earth she had forgotten this song.

_Johnny B. Goode by Chuck Berry._

She quickly scribbled down the name of song on her arm and then spent the rest of the tune jiving with the man's heart.  
After it was over, she finished up with the autopsy and rushed home - as quickly as possible.

Coming into the flat she saw Sherlock sitting at his microscope - oblivious to the fact she'd come home at all. So she took her chance and used the speakers to blare out the tune that he just needed to hear.

The brilliant guitar solo started and Sherlock looked up to see who had turned It on.

Molly.

"Hello. How was your day at work? I like this song."  
Her face lit up.

"Can you jive?" Molly asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet with trepidation.

"Yes." Sherlock answered, looking into his microscope. "Do you want me to teach you?"

She ran over, prising him away from the lens and leading him into the middle of the room.  
She did want to learn.

"Okay. It's quite fast-paced, you'll have to try and keep up with me, but like I've said before - and I know your good at it - follow my lead. You have to bounce and hop quite a bit - no smooth movements, like the waltz I taught you."

Then they were off, Sherlock was spinning and twirling Molly in various directions - into his body, out from his body, around on her own - his feet were constantly moving, Molly tried to mimic his moves and eventually got the hang of it.

They were jiving all over the flat and when the song ended, they collapsed on the sofa, out of breath, and Molly laughed;

"So, sherlock, what about that on the playlist?"

"I suppose...it wasn't too bad." He hesitated.

"Stop being so negative. You enjoyed it. And I'm putting it on there anyways. What about if that was our 'bride and groom' dance?"

Sherlock didn't answer.

"You can teach me properly and we can show off and brag about our jiving skills to all of our friends. How'd you like that?"

Sherlock smiled. Molly Hooper knew him so well.


End file.
